With great pride the Guadalajara Reporter celebrated its 50th anniversary in 2014. A lot of water has passed under the bridge since, but one thing remains constant: the expatriate community is still undertaking good works to make life more cheerful for those in need in their adopted country.
Back in 1965, expats in Guadalajara outnumbered those living in the Lake Chapala area by a considerable margin. Now, thanks to the massive expansion of the metropolitan area and development at lakeside, the roles are reversed.
The front page of the January 7, 1965 edition of the Reporter reflects this difference, with all its stories related to Guadalajara and no space devoted to Chapala or Ajijic.
Of particular interest is the photograph at the bottom of the front page showing some of the 35 American paraplegics who attended a Christmas posada at the Hospicio Cabañas orphanage. All were members of the local Paralyzed Veterans of America chapter, which had managed to raise over 7,000 pesos (about 560 dollars in those days) to host the event for 400 orphans, who also received gifts.
Interestingly, hundreds of spinal cord-injured veterans from World War II, Korea and Vietnam had settled in various parts of Mexico in the 1950s, 60s and 70s.
One of these, Vietnam vet Jack Tumidajski, who lived in Guadalajara in the 1970s, wrote a fascinating book, “Quadalajara – The Utopia That Once Was” about this unique community. The book received an honorable mention Award from the 2007 Hollywood Book Festival, as well as a Military Writers Society of America Distinguished Book Award.
Below you can read the Reporter’s story by Alex Gesheva published in September 2006 following the release of Tumidajski’s book, which is available on order from Sandi Bookstore in Guadalajara or on Amazon.com.
A lost paradise: a paraplegic’s memories of Guadalajara
Jack Tumidajski came to Guadalajara in 1972. He spoke no Spanish and knew almost nothing about the area. He just knew Mexico represented independence, freedom and a great chance to meet some dark-eyed “señoritas.” Do you think you’ve heard this story before? Not from this perspective. In his book, “Quadalajara: the utopia that once was,” Tumidajski lovingly relates the story of one of the city’s earliest gringo communities: wheelchair-bound quadruplegic and paraplegic war veterans, accident victims and degenerative disease patients.
Readers will find Guadalajara as it will never be again. Rent is 40 dollars a month. The Paralyzed Veterans of America become the first group to purchase their own clubhouse (as The Reporter wrote back on July 29, 1967), and aides of PVA members are ignominiously arrested after an “illegal” poker game. The Informador newspaper is there to point a judgmental finger. Wheelchair bound gringos fire guns and bring their own muscled, equally wheelchair-bound bodyguards to intimidate political rivals.
But readers will recognize the heroes. Tumidajski writes of his own experiences as a gringo fumbling his way through the c
ity’s social tangle, caretakers, girlfriends, housemates and apartments. He tells of those who married locally and made it work and those who never quite managed to blend in, car accidents, road trips, fishing trips to Manzanillo, organizing picnics to help local orphanages and disabled children and nights spent chugging tequila.
In 1977, Jack Tumidajski got a Jalisco driver’s license in his hand-controlled car, a jittery Transito cop in the passenger seat. He was even surprised by local police while parking with his girlfriend and paid bribes to escape arrest for “cosas inmorales.” He is honest and humble about both his strengths and shortcomings. He is someone readers will want to know.
Quadalajara itself is a character in this book: “a unique place in a unique time” when those considered odd and unwieldy in the United States forged an independent life for themselves in another country.
A love for this city is just a small part of why this book makes for a good read. Most of the temporarily able-bodied (as a paralyzed friend once called them) are deeply curious about what life is like in a wheelchair. Tumidajski is brutally honest: from his accident only days after his safe return from Vietnam, to rehabilitation, isolation and bouncing back, he shares many minute details of himself. Ultimately, we learn that life in a wheelchair is like any other. The focus is on independence, love, entertainment, a place to call home, a meaning to the day.
Tumidajski’s story is unblemished by flights of imagination, sparely told and more compelling for it. Spanish is seamlessly integrated into the text, with footnoting translated. The back section of the book is a treasure trove of historical documents, including everything from PVA correspondence to newspaper articles and personal photos.
“Many quads, paras, and other wheelers rolled around this unique city,” writes Tumidajski. “Just as the Quadalajara era will never be duplicated, forgotten others will remain unknown – many of them the original Explorers and Pioneers of an almost forgotten moment in time.” That comment is followed by almost 40 pages of the names of those he remembers, with a short description of each one. Like the book itself, it is a touching tribute to a time and people that deserve to be remembered. By the 1980s, peso devaluations and rising prices no longer allowed low fixed-income gringos to care for themselves as they needed to. Gradually, the Pioneers drifted away or were left behind in dwindling numbers.
Tumidajski now resides in Phoenix, Arizona.